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1914 

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r\KEFC5 Edition' J 
m of Plays «bJ 


A Taking Way 

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A Taking Way 

A Farce in One Act 


By 

INNIS G. OSBORN 

Author of “An Easy Mark,” “ Up Against It,” etc . 


BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
1914 





$%*{ 

\<V A 


A Taking Way 


CHARACTERS 

John Halsey, who wishes to be married. 

Jacobus Harwinton, who is married. 

Marion Harwinton, the head of the family . 
Jennie Typeton, a precocious typist. 

A Burglar. 

A Bellboy. 

Scene.— Halsey’s bachelor apartment the night before 
Christmas. 

Place.— New York. 

Time.—T he present. 





f 


Library of Congress 



FEB 21 1914 

©C!.D 36102 


2009 


525028 



























A Taking Way 


SCENE. —An ordinary box set with French windows a?id 
draperies in C. rear. To right and left , up and down stage, 
are four exits. The exit on l. , up stage , leads to the outside 
hallway ; the exit on R., up stage, to the di?iitig-room. Exits 
r. and L., down stage , lead to bedrooms. Tormetitors may 
be used to form these exits. Between exits on r. is an open 
fireplace. Center stage well down is a table over which 
hangs an electric light. There are chairs on both sides of 
the table , and a telephone on it. There is a couchwell down 
stage l. and a serving table between windows center rear and 
exit L. up stage. 

(John Halsey is sprawled out in a chair staring gloomily 
into the fire. He rises , goes to windows c. rear and 
opens them. He stands there for a moment looking out at 
the snow and then goes to serving table where he pours out 
a good dri?ik.) 

John. This is going to be a —(with deep feeling) a 
rotten Christmas Eve. (Crosses to couch on speech.) Santa 
Claus wouldn’t dare come here for fear of contracting the colly¬ 
wobbles. The night before Christmas and all through the- 

(He picks up pillow and thumps it savagely.) That’s the way 
1 feel ! (Assumes most dejected attitude on the couch.) And 
all because I am in love. Yes, that’s it. I am in love with the 
best little girl in the world and her guardian won’t let me 

marry her because I’m- Oh, what’s the use? And hang it 

all, Jennie loves me. Every time I think of her guardian, Miss 
Marion Alsop, it is like a case of quinzy. John Halsey, you are 
doomed to be a love-lorn bachelor (k?iock on door up stage l. ) 
and this is Christmas Eve (thumping on the door becomes 

more violent) and you might as well go out and- ( Crashing 

on door.) Come in! (Enter Bellboy.) Oh, it’s you, is 
it? (Boy opens his mouth to speak.) Don't say a word; don’t 

3 






4 


A TAKING WAY 


breathe. (Boy comes forward , his mouth still ope ul) I am not 
giving any presents this year. (Boy grins.) Stop that 1 
Don’t stand there grinning like a hyena—get out! 

Boy. Merry Christmas. 

John ( forgetting himself for the moment). Merry- 

(Savagely.) Get out of here. Get out of here ! 

Boy ( holding out envelope). I’ve got dis telergram fer- 

John (snatching it from his hand). Idiot! Why didn’t 
you say so? Now get! (Boy exits door l. up stage. John 
opens the telegram , reads it and begins to dance wildly about 
tiie room.) Oh, joy, oh, bliss, oh, this is a cinch ! (Reads.) 
Dear Jack. New Appointment. Marion in Europe. Get out 
application at once. We will fool her yet. Jennie. (Drops 
telegram on table.) Hurrah and a few huzzahs for good 
measure. Jennie means to have me appointed as her guardian 
and then I can give myself permission to marry her and it will 
be in accordance with her father’s will. John Halsey, you are 
on the verge of matrimony; you tremble on the very edge, 

young man. You will- Suffering Moses, to-morrow is 

Christmas and the hearing will be the day after. That means 
I must get out the application to-night and that requires a 
stenographer. (Rushes to table and pores over directory.) 
Ah, here we are ! (Takes telephone off the hook.) Suffering 
Saints, have they all dropped dead ? No, no, 1 am not talking 
to you. ( Wildly.) Here, yes 1 am; don’t cut off. Never 
mind if I am crazy ; that is my affair, not—hold on there, will 
you ? What ? What ? Oh, very well, I apologize. Give me 
Riverside 9876W, quick. Yes, I said quick. (Drops re¬ 
ceiver and grabs ear.) That’s my ear you’re ringin’ into, not 
Riverside. (He waits nervously.) Hello, hello, O—hello. 
I—I beg your pardon. This is John Halsey speaking—what ? 
—no, no, no, not hayseed. Halsey. Yes, that’s it. I am in the 
Empire. Send me up a stenographer. Yes. What? Oh, I 
know that it is late but it is a matter of life and death. The 

price doesn’t count. You are an old darling and- (Hangs 

up receiver.) She’s gone. (Rises and struts about.) This is 
great, simply great. (Feels for cigar.) Not a smoke. The 
man they send up will probably want one. (Looks at watch.) 
I’ve got time to run out and get some. (Puts out light over 
fable and crosses toiuard exit l. up stage.) Heigho ! I must 
buy that boy something. He is a nice boy. I wonder how he 
would like a doll carriage. (Laughs.) This is going to be a 
bully Christmas. [ Exit. 





A TAKING WAY 


5 


(There is a tapping noise at windows, c. rear ; they open ; a 
bull*s-eye flashes and the Burglar enters closing windows 
after him. He comes down centre stage, flashing light 
and trips on stool.) 

Burg. Throw up yur hands, throw up yur- ( Flashes 

light.) Now I’m blowed ; nuttin’ but a stool. ( Crosses from 
one door to the other flashing his lantern about as he goes .) 
He has went ! How does he expect me ter dig up a livin’ if 
he ( crossing to serving table on speech and picking up flask) 

sticks aroun’- Hullo ! Solid, too. (. Drops it into his 

pocket.) Leavin’ stuff like dat aroun’ is a crime. (. Business 
with light all the time.) Well, it’s a cinch there ain’t no safe 
in here. I’ll jest stroll into de furder compartment an.’ see 
what’s lookin’ fer papa. \_Exit r., up stage. 

Jacobus Harwinton {off stage entrance, up stage, l.). 
Here we are and the door {entering followed by Marion Har¬ 
winton) open just as the boy said it would be. (Jac. is 
buried under bags, bundles , etc. They come down stage.) 
Darling, we are here, alone, at last. My love ! 

Mar. We are alone in the dark, without a chaperone. It 
isn’t decent. 

Jac. Possibly, my dear, that is what makes it so- 

Mar. {sharply). Turn on the lights. (Jac. does so.) And 
don’t call me dear. ( She sits down l. of table.) Please sit 
down. {He starts for her chair.) Not here, over there. 
{He sits down on edge of sofa m a most dejected fashion. A 
little bit of a man, with bristling side whiskers, he looks 77iore 
absurd than ever in contrast with his larger a 7 id belligerent 
better half.) Here we are at last. 

Jac. {bea77iing toward her). A bride and groom of but - 

Mar. {harshly). Jacobus ! Please don’t harp on that sub¬ 
ject. You must learn to curb your sense of humor. Besides, 
you don’t have to tell any one. All they need to do is look at 

you. {Business for Jac.) You are the most perfect - 

Your hat is on ! (Jac. re7noves his hat, and as he does a 
shoiver of rice falls from it.) There, what did I tell you? 

Jac. {inildly). It was very good of Tom to lend us this 
dear apartment for our- 

Mar. You were going to say it. Suppose we are on our— 
that we have just been—well, suppose we are what we are and 
that we are in quarters borrowed for our {triu77ipha7itly) sojourn 
here! We will forget that. You are to continue your con- 








6 


A TAKING WAY 


fession concerning this mysterious Jennie person. To think 
you had a past. 

Jac. ( rather pleased at the idea). Just fancy. 

Mar. (sternly). Go on, tell me the worst, everything. 
Confess ! 

Jac. Confess? My precious little turtle- 

Mar. Omit the adjectives. We are married now. I want 
facts. 

Jac. (Mar. easts a warning glare at him and he gulps 
uneasily. ) There are no facts to tell. 

(In an absent-minded way he begins to pick the rice off his 
coat , etc., a7id eat it.) 

Mar. I am your lawful wedded wife and I have the- 

What on earth are you doing now ? 

Jac. (mildly). Merely eating. A small appetizer. Even I 
must eat now and then. You forget we have not dined as yet. 

Mar. Food, food, food; that is all you men think of. 
Very well, after you have told me, we dine; and not until 
then. 

Jac. (he groans , observes that she is resolute and groans 
again). It was such a harmless affair, my pet. 

Mar. Oh, yes, I know. They all are. 

Jac. (peering reminiscently ahead). Schoolboy and school¬ 
girl love, you know. (Mar. starts indignantly .) That is— 
of course you don’t! You never were a schoolboy, were you? 
We lived on the same street. That rather made our families 
neighbors, you see. (He stares at her in a hopeless way.) 
You don’t see that either, do you ? Well, Jennie and I- 

Mar. (triumphantly). Aha ! So you still call her Jennie, 
do you ? 

Jac. I don’t call her at all. She wouldn’t come if I did, 
so what’s the use? (Business.) I used to. Jen—it was her 
name, the same as yours is. 

Mar. Don’t you dare to link my name with that person’s ! 
She is a person. (Abruptly.) How do I know that she isn’t 
pursuing you even now? 

Jac. (sadly). No such good fortune. (Begins to mop his 
bald pate.) That is—er—isn’t it frightfully warm in here? 

Mar. She has no modesty; one can never know what she 

may do. I am glad I am not jealous, for I should- She 

called you Jack instead of Jacobus, now didn’t she? Eh ? 






A TAKING WAY 


7 


Jac. (smiling). Yes, she did. We rather fancied Jack as 
a pet name. 

Mar. (in horror ). A pet name! (He starts to protest 
but she waves him back.) And you call up such monstrous 
memories (business) with a smile on your lips (business), and 
the ink not yet dried on our - (By this time Jac. is bounc¬ 

ing up and down on the couch like a rubber ball.) Jacobus, 
you are an idiot. 

(He subsides gradually.) 

Jac. I am beginning to think that I am. 

(Business for both.) 

Mar. I know you are. (Picks up telegram.) Oh! A 
telegram. I will read it. You may as well learn now as later 
that I am to be the head of this household. (Reads, aside.) 
“Marion in Europe.—We will fool her yet.” 

Jac. You seem to be the entire family. (Mar. screams.) 
For pity sake, are you going to die ? 

Mar. (rising and brushing hwi aside). Don’t touch me; 
don't you dare to come near me. (He crawls back of the 
couch for safety.) You serpent ! You wish to take my young 
heart in your gory hands (he examines them) and crush the 
youth from it. But you shan’t, you shan’t, you shan’t! (Burg. 
peers out of exit r. , up stage, ducking back just in time to miss 
Mar.) I loathe you, I loathe you, I loathe you ! 

Jac. That makes three times you’ve loathed me. Calm 
yourself, my precious, calm yourself. You may become 
excited ! 

Mar. (striding toward him, at which he crouches trembling 
in inortal terror). Excited ? What do you think is the matter 
with me now? You—you bouncing ball! (Waves telegram 
at hhn.) So Marion is in Europe, is she? Me, do you under¬ 
stand, me in Europe? There is to be an appointment? You 
will fool me, will you—you two? (Sinks into chairs, of c. 
table.) Oh, why must I be a poor defenseless woman before a 
brute man ? (Sobs. Jac. peers over couch.) 

Jac. Is— is anything particular wrong? 

Mar. (springing to her feet, at which he ducks again). So 
it was nothing more than a schoolboy and schoolgirl affair in 
those days, eh? What is this, a post-graduate course? I will 
tell you what it is; it is a matter for the divorce courts. 


8 


A TAKING WAY 


(Crosses to exit r., down stage.) Go to your Jennie woman. 
(She has bags, etc., with her.) Go to her—Mormon ! [ Exit. 

(Jac. peers cautiously over couch , ducks back and then sum¬ 
mons the courage to peer about the cor tier.) 

Jac. I—I believe she has gone. (He clambers over the 
couch.) Well, I will ( enter Jennie Typeton, up stage , l.) be 
jiggered. If this is the beginning of a blissful married life, 
what will the anniversaries be ? Oh—oh, fiddlesticks ! 

Jen. (in mock horror). Oh, sir, such words! (Comes 
down c., fixing her hair, etc.) Well, here I are. I have 
came. 

Jac. ( beginning to recover himself). What? Oh, yes, so 
you have. How do you do? Good-bye. I am very sorry 
that you can’t stay, but you can’t, you know. Good-bye. 

Jen. (in protest). You don’t seem to get me. (Jac. 
glances nervously toward exit r., down stage.) I just come, 
an’ I ain’t got no time to waste. Let’s start. 

(Jac. stares at her in horror.) 

Jac. Dear me, but it is warm. Really, I think that there 
is a- My dear young woman, who in the world are you ? 

Jen. Ain’t I careless? I’d ferget my pulfs if they wasn’t 
me own—which they ain’t. I’m Jennie. 

(Jac. starts.) 

Jac. Merciful heavens ! Did—did I understand you to 
say that you were ( dropping his voice to a whisper) Jennie ? 

Jen. Uhum ! You got me, Steve. 

Jac. How you have changed. Don’t say it again. What 
in the world are you doing here; and if you had to come, 
why couldn’t you have had a different name? Oh, why did 
you have to come ? 

Jen. Because you sent for me. 

Jac. What? Did — did I send for you? 

Jen. Say, what are you trying to do; kid me? 

Jac. Oh, this is terrible; you really have no idea how very 
terrible it is, and I can’t remember a thing about it. Do you 
mind telling me why I sent for you? 

Jen. (she begins to daub her nose, etc.). Oh, I guess you 
know, all right. 



A TAKING WAY 


9 


Jac. If I only did. Don't (as she draws off her gloves) 
do that. 

Mar. (off stage'). Jacobus ! 

Jen. Whither are the nightingale? 

Jac. Nightingale. But she mustn’t find you here. (Shoos 
her.) You really must not let her see you. Will you 
please go ? 

Jen. (firmly). Not until I finish the work. 

Jac. (pleading). But it will be me, not the work, that will 
be finished. 

Mar. (off stage). Jacobus, I called you. 

Jac. (frantically). Yes, yes, so you did. (To Jen.) You 
will be the death of me. 

Jen. I’m wise; don’t get all dizzied up. Hide me off 
somewhere until the tornado blows away. I ain’t in no special 
rush. 


(Jac. leads her to exit l., down stage.) 

Jac. There, go into that room, and don’t come out until I 
call you. (Hands her a bill.) That will pay you. 

Jen. (playfully). Oh, you men ! [Exit. 

Mar. (off stage). Jacobus, are you dead ? 

Jac. (crossing to r.). No, but I wish I were. Jennie, of 
all people. This is terrible. Coming, my pretty one. 

[Exit, r., down stage. 

Enter Burg, from r., up stage. 

Burg. An’ I thought there wasn’t any one in this place. 
It’s time I got out. ( Goes to windoius, c. rear.) A cop ! 
(Shuts them.) An’ some one in each of them rooms. (Goes 
to exit l., up stage. ) Some one cornin’ ! ( Comes down stage.) 

Well, I got to bluff it out. (John is heard whistling outside 
of exit l., up stage.) Here he comes. (Sits at table.) 

Enter John. 

John. Ah, there you are. Hope I haven’t kept you wait¬ 
ing ? Have a cigar—have a box of cigars. Didn't have any 
trouble getting in, did you ? 

Burg. It was a cinch. 

John. Been at the work long? 

Burg. I’ve done two terms at- Say, what’s in the air ? 

I’m in the fog an’ me wireless ain’t ship-shape. 



10 


A TAKING WAY 


(John laughs joyously .) 

John. Oh, we will get to that soon enough. By the way, 
can you take stuff fast ? 

Burg. ( displaying the flask to audience'). That’s me spe¬ 
cialty. 

John. Excellent. Here, have a smoke. 

Burg. Hold tight there. I ain’t openin’ a retail business. 

John. By Jove, that is immense. What a taking way you 
have. (Burg, removes pocketbook.) I was just talking 

to the policeman on the outside. 

Burg. If you don’t mind, I’ve got to go. 

John. Wait. What would you do if I told you that there 
was some one in this house ? Possibly a burglar. 

Burg. I dunno. I guess I’d scream. 

John. Well, there is some one, and he came in by that 
window. I told the officer I would call up headquarters. 

Burg. I know I got to go. 

John. Sit down. I need you. 

Burg. You bet you do. (John reaches for telephotie.) 
Don’t do that. I’m dreadful nervous as it is, an’ the sight 
of a copper sets me wild. 

John ( astonished ). But you don’t expect me to sit still and 
have my house robbed, do you ? 

Burg. Yes—that is, of course not. (Suddenly.) I’ve got 
a idea. 

John. Well? 

Burg. We will look fer the burglar, an’ when we catch 
him then we’ll call de bulls. 

John. Better yet. 

Burg. Yes, much better. 

John. He would probably be gone by the time the police 
arrived. 

Burg. Yes, he will. I mean would. 

John. Well, come on. {Leads the way to exit r., up 
stage.) One or the other of us ought to be able to find out 
where he is. [ Exeunt . 

Enter Mar., r. entrance down otage. 

Mar. The villain, the wretch. He is actually a perfidy. 

I would go right home to mother if it wasn’t for- ( Knock 

on t.. entrance down stage.) What was that? {Crosses to 
exit l., down stage.) There is some one in that room. I 



A TAKING WAY 


II 


wonder ? (She peers through keyhole.') There is a woman in 
that room. 

Jen. Let me out, papa. 

Mar. Papa? It is a single woman. (She unlocks the door 
and Jen. enters.) Well, upon my word ! 

Jen. Ain’t you went? Gee, Father Time will be dippy. 

Mar. What are you talking about ? How dare you come 
into this apartment and be locked in that room ? Do you know 
who lam? 

Jen. No, but I’ll bet you're a militant. 

Mar. [sternly). What are you doing here ? 

Jen. Woman to woman, you got me. He sent for me, 
an’- 

Mar. (wildly). Sent for you? I begin to see light. And 
you thought I was going to be away, and that you two would 
fool me. I know who you are; you are Jennie ! 

Jen. A bull’s-eye. Try three more shots ? 

Mar. I have an idea. He sent for you. Oh, this is going 
to be splendid. I am his wife ! I said I was his wife ! 

Jen. Well, that ain’t no fault of mine, is it ? 

Mar. Yes, it is. Why didn’t you marry him? 

Jen. Me marry that scream? Good-night! 

Mar. Then you don’t love him ? 

Jen. Will some one pinch me, an’ see if I’m asleep or 
dippy? Of course I don’t love him. Is this a meller- 
drammer ? 

Mar. But he thinks you do, and - (Jen. tries to speak.) 

Why, all the time he was wooing me—he did woo me—he was 
in love with you; your face was before him, your lips were the 
ones he kissed, not mine. And to think that after all you 
don’t love him. How dare you refuse to love him? 

Jen. Don’t be so rough. I’ll do it if it will help any. 

Mar. (indignantly). No, you won’t! I want you to tell 
him to his face what you have told me,—that you do not love 
him. It will be worth this ten dollar bill to me. Will you 
do it? 

Jen. I’d marry him for fifteen. 

Mar. Hush, here he comes. (Pushes her behind screen l. 
rear.) Mind you, now, you are to tell him that you do not 
love him. [ Exit , l., down stage. 

Jen. I wonder what I’m up against. 

Enter John and Burg. r. entrance up stage. 



12 


A TAKING WAY 


John. Not a soul, and yet I could have sworn that I heard 
some one talking. (Mar. peers out, sees them , and slams door.) 
What was that ? 

Burg. I don’t know, but I’m dreadful timid of burglars. I 
guess I’d better go. 

(He starts toward exit l., up stage , but John seizes him and 
swings him about. As he does so Jen. peers out from be¬ 
hind the screen and ducks back again.) 

John. There it is again. This thing is on our nerves. We 
need a bracer. (As he hunts for flask Burg, takes it from his 
pocket a?id drinks.) My flask has been stolen. (Burg, slips 

it on the serving table.) Now, where the- Why, it is 

here. (Looks about sudde?ily and then takes a gulp , putting it 
down again. They come down stage.) This is (Jen. getting 
flask and returni?ig behind scree?i) too much for me. One 

moment I see it, and then- I beg your pardon. (He 

goes back to serving table.) It is gone again ! 

Burg. This is no place for me. 

(Starts toward L., up stage.) 

John. Stop ! You suggested finding this crook, and you 
have got to stick by me. (Drags him to exit L., down stage.) 
Let’s peek in here. 

(As they peer through keyhole Jac. enters r., down stage . 
Jen. signals wildly. He sees others and ducks back into 
the room.) 

Burg. I say, what was that? 

John. There is a woman in that room. 

Burg. Lemme see. 

Enter Mar., sending both over backwards. 

Mar. Jacobus, how dare you peek ? (Screams.) 

John. Quick, grab her. There. You go in and see what you 
can find. (Exit Burg, l., down stage.) Now, you come into 
the other room, and (he drags her toward exit R., up stage) we 
will have a little chat. (Enter Jac., r. e?itrance down stage.) 
Come on, my fine young lady. 

(Drags her off. Exit r., up stage.) 

Jac. (wiping his glasses frantically). Gracious! I wonder 




A TAKING WAY 


13 


where she ever got him. ( Glances toward exit l. , down stage.) 
It is a splendid time to get her out of here. (Jen. signals 
wildly but he does not see her. He goes toward exit l., down 
stage.) Oh, what an odd honeymoon, indeed ! {Enter Burg. 
by l. efitrance down stage.) A thief ! Throw up your hands. 
{Draws an e7iorinous horse-pistol.) Throw up your hands, you 
vicious thing ! 


(Burg, does so.) 

Burg. Another! Hey, be careful with that thing; it might 
go off. 

Jac. Keep your hands up. Drop that loot! Now, you 
come here to me; cross over there. (Burg, moves toward 
exit r., down stage.) Don’t you say a word. Now go in there. 
Quick ! (As Burg, exits r., down stage , Jen. runs to exit l., 
down stage and exits.) Now I have him safe. Also there is 
some one behind the screen. (Goes cautiously toward it.) 
Come out ! I said, come out! (He peers behind it.) Not a 
soul there! (Enter John, exit r., up stage.) Another! 
(Business.) Stand and deliver ! 

(Starts suddenly down stage.) 

John. Hold on there; where are you going ? 

Jac. Really, now that you ask me, I haven’t the faintest 
idea. I was holding you up, wasn’t I ? 

John. May I inquire what the devil you are doing in this 
apartment ? 

Jac. Oh, certainly. I have been asked all sorts of things 
since I came here. I shan’t object to that in the least. (Sud¬ 
denly.) You—you are a burglar. ( Raises blunderbuss.) 

John. You are a fool. Put that thing down ! 

Jac. I’ve got the rest of your gang; in fact my men have 
completely surrounded the house, so that (edging toward exit 
r., up stage) there is no chance for escape. You remain until 
I return. I want to ask Marion something about you. 

[Exit r., up stage. 

John. Marion ? Marion ? What in the world am I hold¬ 
ing here this evening, a convention? (Goes down to table c. 
stage.) I’ll call the police and be - (Enter Jen., l. en¬ 

trance, down stage.) Hullo, there is another. I know you. 
Stop ! 

Jen. Make it some other time. I’m in a hurry now. 



H 


A TAKING WAY 


John. Stop before I fire. Come here. (Jen. comes 
toward him.) I am very glad to see you, Marion. 

Jen. You got off at the wrong street. You want a transfer. 
My name ain’t what you said. 

John. Well, a name more or less doesn’t matter. I have 
just been conversing with your pal. He is looking for you. 

Jen. Say, if all the people lookin’ fer me finds me I’m goin’ 
to be the center of population in this burg. Say, who cut loose 
the bunch of nut stuff in this den? It’s got me locoed. I’m 
willin’ to be friendly, but in this house it’s contagious. 

(Jac. appears r., up stage.) 

Jac. Now he is with her. [Exit. 

John. You have about reached the end of your string. 

Jen. I got your number. You’re a burglar. 

John. What, the same gag? (There is a crash off stage. 
John turns toivard r., and as he does Jen. dives behind the 
screen. John turns back to find her go?ie.) Now she has 
gone ! This thing will drive me mad. (He looks about the 
room.) Ah ! The screen ! (He tiptoes to the screen , ap¬ 
proaching from the right. Jen. comes out on the left. She 
goes in front of screen and disappears at right behind it as he 
comes out on left. As they are doing this Jac. and Burg, ap¬ 
pear at l. and r., down stage , see o?ie another and exit again. 
John cotfies down stage c.) Not a soul in the place. There is 
only one way she could have gone out. (Goes to exit l., up 
stage.) I’ll get her yet. [Exit. 

Jen. (coming out fro7?i behind screen and coming down stage 
C.). An’ now he’s out there between me an’ freedom. This 
is a swell joint fer a goil like me. (Enter Burg, r., down 
stage.) Ouch ! Say, are you some one new, or one of the 
others in disgust? 

Burg. Just a minute. Who are you ? 

Jen. That’s what they all ask. I’m goin’ to wear me 
monaker on me chest. Kind sir, I’m just Jennie. 

Burg. No. 

Jen. Yes! 

Burg, (aside). The goil he is goin’ to marry. (To Jen.) 
Do you know that this is a daffy house? 

Jen. I didn’t know it, but I’d made a swell guess. What 
are you in for ? 

Burg. Can that laugh stuff! You look on the level. 
What do you say if we two duck ? 


A TAKING WAY 15 

Jen. You may be Harry Thaw in disguise, but you’ve got 
my number. Lead the way. 

(They start cautiously toward exit l., up stage. Jac. ap¬ 
pears at R., up stage.) 

Jac. Goodness, she has the other one. [Exit. 

Burg. Sufferin’ catfish, here comes some one. This chair 
for yours. ( Drags her to chair left of table c., and slips cover 
over her head.) Now don’t shiver. (. Hurries toward screen.) 
An’ when I gives de word, vamoose. 

(He jumps behind screen as Mar. enters r., up stage.) 

Mar. Jacobus is back there under the table. He thought 
I was a ghost. ( Comes down c. stage.) Oh, my poor nerves, 
my poor head. Everything has been spinning so that I feel 
like an engine on a runaway turntable. But once I get out of 
this (Jac. appearing up stage r., sees her and starts to come 
forward bravely) I will fix Jacobus so that he (Jac. sneaks 
back and exits r., up stage , on speech) will never forget it. And 
he wanted a nice, quiet honeymoon. (She starts to sit down , 
and Jen. shivers violently. Business for Burg, behind screen. 
Mar. changes her mind and goes to right of stage.) Oh, I 
wonder what will happen next. 

Burg. Pst! 

(Mar. starts dramatically.) 

Jen. Pst! 

(Mar. stares wildly about the room.) 

Burg. Pst! 

(Slowly the chair and screen begin to dance toward the left 
of stage y screen coming down so that both are heading 
toward the exit l., down stage. Mar. stares wildly at 
them from right of stage.) 

Enter John, up stage l. Comes down to c. half way stage. 

John. You got out, did you ? (Mar. signals wildly 
toward the screen and the chair.) What is wrong with you? 
Have you gone mad ? (By this time the chair and screen are 
directly before exit L., downstage. John sees them and stag¬ 
gers back.) Am I losing my senses, too? They move; look, 
they move! ( The screen and chair collide at this pointy 


16 


A TAKING WAY 


John has edged toward Mar., who screams andfaints in his 
arms. Exit Jen. and Burg, by exit l., down stage. John 
fans Mar. frantically.) Here, here, this will never do. 
Take a brace and be a man. Only suppose some one were to 
come in. How in the world would I ever explain this ? My 
good woman, this will have to be stopped; it is carrying a joke 
too far. This is a terrible predicament! 

Enter Jac., l. rear. He sees John and Mar., and comes 
down stage. 

Jac. ( dramatically ). Aha ! 

John (angrily as Mar. flings her arms about his neck). 
Aha, yourself. {To Mar.) Don’t do that. 

Jac. If I only had a witness. 

John. Oh, damn your witness. {To Mar.) Will you 
come, too? 

Jac. {still more dramatically). She embraces you even as 
you cling to her, villain ! 

John (to Mar.). You will have to stop this. 

Jac. She does not even move. Perhaps you will tell me 
how long this has been going on ? 

John. Long enough for me, I can assure you. Here, you 
take her for a while. 

{Passes Mar. to Jac., who promptly tosses her back into 
John’s arms.) 

Jac. Not I, sir. She is yours. Take her and be happy ! 

John. This thing has passed the bounds of a joke. Will 
you take this—this woman ? 

Jac. (as he moves toward exit l., up stage). No, I thank 
you. And when you are finished with your present pose you 
may tell her that I have gone out to find Jennie. 

{Exit L., up stage, with a flourish. 

John. Jennie ? Now who the deuce is Jennie ? Jennie ! 
Can—can she be here ? Suppose she is. Suppose she were to 
come in and find me like this? I’ve got to find out if she is 
here. 

{He drops Mar. to the floor and exits by l. , up stage , hur¬ 
riedly. Mar. moans vigorously.) 

Mar. Where am I? (She sits up abruptly.) Where is 
everyone? (Rises to her feet.) Where is any one ? I see it 


A TAKING WAY 


17 

all now. Jacobus has gone off with that woman and left me 
here. The Mormon ! {Starts toward l., and as she does , 
Burg, enters exit L., down stage . Mar. screams and falls 
into his arms.) I shall faint! 

Burg. She has fainted. Now, what will I do with her? 
Ah, the couch. {Places Mar. on couch.) She sleeps; my 
lady sleeps. {He goes tip stage to exit R., up stage.) This is 
no place for a plain, ordinary burglar. [Exit. 

Mar. {groaning and stirring about, and then sitting sud¬ 
denly up). I wonder who that could have been ? I know; it 
was a burglar. Goodness, my jewels. {Crosses to r.) My 
jewels. [Exit r., down stage. 

(Jen. peers in and then enters by exit l., down stage.) 

Jen. He said that he would be right back, and he had my 
purse. ( Goes up stage to r.) I wonder where that guy has 
gone. [Exit R., up stage. 

Enter Mar., crossing to l., down stage , on speech. 

Mar. He has my jewels. He must be in here. 

[Exit l., down stage. 

Enter Jac., l., up stage. Crosses to r., down stage , on speech. 

Jac. I nearly forgot my watch and money. What a mess 
that would have been. [Exit r ., down stage. 

Enter Jen., r., up stage, crossing toward screen. 

Jen. There is no one in that room. He must have gone 
out this way. The thief! [Exit l., up stage. 

(Mar. e?iters r., down stage, and goes up to exitL., up 
stage and goes out. As she does Jac. enters r., dow7i 
stage and rushes across to l., down stage, and exits. 
Burg, peers out of r., up stage, just as Mar. enters l., 
up stage. Burg, ducks back as Mar. goes to r., down 
stage. Jen. enters l., up stage, and pauses. Then turns 

back to L., up stage, liste?is and jumps behind the screen.) 

Enter John. 

John. The boy swears no one has been out, and still there 
is no one in here. I’ll have to try again. [Exit l., up stage. 


1 8 A TAKING WAY 

Enter Jac., L., down stage. He drops panting onto the couch . 

Jac. Was there ever such a fix in all the world ? I wonder 
where every one can be. ( Rises and crosses to extreme r., 
and as he does Jen. conies down stage and exits l. He turns 
as door slams.) I’m getting the fidgets. My wife gone, Jen¬ 
nie gone, and my money and watch gone. After this 1 shan’t 
be surprised no matter what happens. ( Telephone rings.) 
Hullo. What? Yes, I guess that’s the number. Anyhow, the 
bell rang. {To audience.) Possibly it is the police. I trust 
so. {Into 'phone.) Yes. Yes. How’s that? Am I going 
to keep her much longer? Who? Jennie? Bless my soul, I 
don’t need her at all. I wish you would send for her; she is 
a pest. I tell you she is a pest. She is, she is, she is. {He 
stares stupidly into the receiver and then hangs it up.) I be¬ 
lieve he told me to go to the devil. Just fancy that! What a 
real rest Purgatory would be after this. {Knock on exit l., up 
stage.) Come in. At all events I shall have plenty of com¬ 
pany. {Louder knockiftg.) Come in, come in ! 

Enter Boy, l., rear. He is singing: “ Love'syoung dream.” 

Boy. Merry Christmas. {He comes down stage.) 

Jac. {very belligerently for him). Merry—nothing ! 

Boy. I got a present for you, sir, an’ - {Stares at Jac., 

who does the same to him.) For the love of Pete, who are you ? 

Jac. I was just going to ask you that question myself. 
Every person I meet discovers that I am some one else. Who 
am I ? 

Boy. Well, if any one was to ask me who you was Pd take 

a chance that you was dippy or- {He starts.) Maybe 

you’re a burglar. 

Jac. You are not at all original. Some one else discovered 
that before you. Among other things I believe 1 am a burglar. 

Boy {enthusiastically). Say, this is all right. I never seen 
a burglar this close before in my life. ( Wipes palm on trou¬ 
sers and holds it out to Jac., who takes it in an uncertain fash¬ 
ion.) Shake ! I cert am glad to know you. 

Jac. {completely astonished). Oh ! I trust that I come up 
to your idea of a—a burglar. I am really quite vicious, you 
know. But there. You said you had a present for me. 

Boy. Pm dreadful sorry, Mister Burglar, but I guess there 
is a mistake here. Pd give a good deal to have a burglar say 
I give him a present. I’m sorry ; on the level I am ! 



A TAKING WAY 


19 


Jac. So am I. Every one has been passing me all there 
was in sight, and I was rather curious to see what could be left, 
you know. It didn’t seem as if there was a thing. 

Boy ( still studying Jac. earnestly ). You see, I didn’t ex¬ 
pect to find you here. I was lookin’ for Mister Jack- 

Jac. One moment. You said Jack? 

Boy. Me very woids. Say, you wouldn’t give me a jimmy 
or somethin’ as a present for the gag, would youse ? 

Jac. Jack. How curious; how very curious, indeed. 
And may I inquire who this Mister Jack is ? 

Boy. The guy youse is robbing. Mister Jack Halsey, the 
feller who rents this place. 

(Jac. stares at him in surprised) 

Jac. I knew that you would have some sort of a shock for 
me. You mean that—that Jack Halsey rents this—this apart¬ 
ment? Now, don’t answer me in a rush. A great deal de¬ 
pends on you. 

Boy. Sure he does. I ought ter know. I’m the bell hop 
here. Gee, but you’re a dummy of a burglar. Why don’t you 
get busy and burgle a little? Don’t mind me; I won’t peach. 
Couldn’t you blow up a safe ? 

Jac. Later, perhaps, but not just now. Does this Jack 
know any one by the name of ( gulping but finally getting it out) 
Jennie ? 

Boy. Surest little thing you know, pal. She is the skirt he 
is going to take the plunge with. 

Jac. Skirt? Plunge? I don’t exactly understand. Can 
you say it in English ? 

Boy (who is begin?iing to be disgusted ). The moll he is 
going to tie up to—go under the yoke with—the girl he is to 
marry. Do you get me now ? Gee! but you’re a nutty 
burglar. 

Jac. I am a nutty burglar, and I get you. Moreover, I am 
beginning to see a great light. (Sighsponderously .) You will 
get to be a nice boy when you learn to talk ! 

Boy. Can that stuff. I guess you’re balmy in the filbert. 

Jac. Possibly. You have lifted a great load from my 
mind. I should like to give you five dollars. (Boy straight - 
ens up.) But some one has borrowed my purse without my 
permission. (Business for Boy.) 

Boy. You give me a pain ! 


20 


A TAKING WAY 


Enter Mar., r., down stage . 

Jac. (rising and going toward her). My darling, every¬ 
thing is all right. This little lad here can explain everything. 

Mar. {waving him aside). And who may he be ? Jennie’s 
little brother ? 

Boy (aside). Another nut! 

Enter John, l., up stage. He comes down. 

John. Back again, are you ? Well, I admire your nerve, 
to say the least. 

Mar. ( pointing to Boy). Ask him about it. He is the 
one who can explain everything. 

(Business for Mar. and Jac.) 

John (to Boy). It’s you, is it ? You have had me run¬ 
ning up and down stairs for the last- 

Boy. The elevator’s bust. Here is somethin’ for you. 
(Enter Jen., who has been listening to everything from behind 
the screen.) I got a hunch that (Jen. comes down stage) it’s 
from Miss Jennie. 

Jen. Who’s takin’ my name in vain now? 

(John starts , Jac. staggers back , Boy stares and Mar. 
draws up sternly.) 

Mar. There she is, Jacobus. 

John (to Mar.). Don’t you dare to faint again. 

Jac. I wish it were over with. 

John. We all seem to have been able to gather here at 
once, so perhaps some one will be good enough to explain 
what you are all doing in my apartment. 

Jac. I can explain everything. You see, it was- 

Mar. Jacobus ! 

(Jac. subsides.) 

Jen. The poor old goat! 

(Business for Mar.) 

Boy. Maybe I’ve got the right dope on some of these 
people. I goes out fer a few moments and Jimsey—he’s de 
new boy—shoots up a couple and tells them to go to Mr. Carl’s 
place down the hall. I shoots up this other one meself. She 
wanted you. 

John. I see. 



A TAKING WAY 


21 


Mar. Perhaps you do, but I don’t. Jacobus probably got 
us into the wrong flat—he usually does mix everything up; but 
that doesn’t explain how this Jennie person comes to be here. 

Jen. Soft pedal on that person stuff, will you ? 

John. Jennie ? You ? (. Bursts into laughter.') 

Jen. I guess I’m a joke, all right, but don’t bust open 
over it. 

Mar. She says that some one here sent for her. 

Jen. And so some one did. I’m Jennie, just as I said I 
was, an’ I come up here to take some guy’s dictation who- 

John. You are the stenographer ? 

Jen. I’m supposed to be, an’ I’m paid by the hour. 

John (to Boy). Then who was the other man you brought 
up here ? 

Boy. I ain’t seen no one else. 

Jac. (mildly). Perhaps he was the burglar. 

Mar. He’s got my jewels. 

Jen. He’s got my purse. 

Jac. He called on me also. 

Boy (to Jac.). I knew you wasn’t no burglar. 

John. One thing is quite certain. He has had plenty of 
time to escape while we were rushing about here. I will see 
that the police are notified. Also I owe you all an apology. 

Jac. I think some one owes me one. 

Mar. Jacobus, my hero, forgive me. 

Jac. I suppose I’ve got to, but don’t ever let it happen 
again. 

(Winks over Mar.’s shoulder at John. Jen. goes to table ' 
c. stage and gets out her book and pencil.) 

John (to Boy). Show this lady and gentleman to the right 
apartment. I shall see that your things are sent over directly. 
I trust I shall have the pleasure of knowing you better. 

Mar. (who has gone with Boy to exit L., up stage). I 
knew you were a nice man from the first. Come, Jacobus. 

[Exit with Boy. 

Jac. I say, old chap, take my advice: don’t ever marry. 
(He goes to exit l., up stage.) I ought to know. I’m on my 
honeymoon. [Exit. 

Jen. Say, when do we begin ? 

(John comes down and sits on opposite side of the table. 
Both have their backs toward the rear of the stage.) 


22 


A TAKING WAY 


John. Right now. Ready? (Jen. nods.) Since it has 
become the right of the court to appoint a new guardian for 

Miss Jennie- (As he dictates Burg, appears at exit r., 

up stage. He has a bag of stuff over his shoulder and on 
speech moves toward windows c., rear, and opens.') No, that 
isn’t just the form. 

(Stares thoughtfully ahead and Jen. waits for him to go on.) 

Burg, (who is half-way out of the window). Merry 
Christmas! 

(As the curtain falls Burg, closes the window after him , 
John turns toward Jen. to continue his dictation and she 
starts to work.) 


CURTAIN 



THE CRIMSON COCOANUT 

And Other Plays 

By Ian Hay 

This collection contains the following titles, all of which can be con¬ 
fidently recommended for amateur performance in schools or elsewhere as 
high in tone and exceptionally amusing. Mr. Hay is well known as a 
novelist and literary man. 


THE CRIMSON COCOANUT 

An Absurdity in One Act. Four males, two females. Costumes, modern ; 
scenery, an interior. Plays thirty-five minutes. Mr. Fincher, of Scot¬ 
land Yard, in pursuit of some dangerous anarchists, entangles the lady 
of his choice and her father in some humorous perils, but ends by cap¬ 
turing both the criminals and the lady. Author’s royalty of $5.00 for 
amateur performance. 


A LATE DELIVERY 

A Play in Three Episodes. Three males, two females. Scene, an in¬ 
terior ; costumes, modern. Plays forty minutes. Bill, a middle-aged 
admirer of Marjorie, learns just as he has finished a letter to her propos¬ 
ing marriage that Tim, a young man, is also in love with her. He as¬ 
sumes her to love his rival and does not mail the letter. She finds it on 
his desk and opens it, and learning the truth makes choice of the older 
and better man. Royalty for amateurs, $5.00 for each performance. 


THE MISSING CARD 

A Comedietta in One Act. Two males, two females. Scene, an in¬ 
terior; costumes, modern. Plays thirty minutes. Two elderly admirers 
of Mrs. Millington decide to deal the pack to see which shall first propose 
to her, the one who gets the Queen of Hearts to win. She privately takes 
this card out of the pack and when they have gone through it in vain, 
announces her engagement to another man. Royalty for amateurs, #5.00 
a performance. 

Price , all three in one volume , 50 cents 


THE MARRIAGE OF JACK AND JILL 

A Mother Goose Entertainment in Two Scenes 

By Lilian Clisby Bridgham 

Forty children. Costumes, wedding; no scenery required. Plays 
forty minutes. A Mother Goose wedding and reception carried out by the 
smallest children. Very pretty and easy to get up ; strongly recommended. 
Not a pantomime merely, but calls for some speaking parts. 

Price , 25 cents 


ORIGINAL ENTERTAINMENTS AND 
BURLESQUES 

By George M. Baker 

Six clever burlesques and specialty entertainments for amateur the¬ 
atricals or for lyceum entertainers. Bright and amusing, and can be 
recommended. 

CONTENTS 

Too Late for the Train. Two males. 

An Original Idea. One male, one female. 

Capuletta. Three males, one female. 

The Peddler of Very-Nice. Seven males. 

Snow-Bound. Three males, one female. 

Bon-Bons. Three males, one female. 

An attractive collection of popular pieces. 

Price, jo cents 

BAKER’S SCHOOL ENTERTAINMENTS 

By George M. Baker 

Nine entertainments for school exhibitions and graduating exercises. 
CONTENTS 

The Voyage of Life. Nine girls and chorus. 

The Tournament of Idylcourt. Twenty girls. 

The Sculptor’s Triumph. One boy, five girls. 

The Rival Poets. Two boys. 

The Revolt of the Bees. Nine girls. 

The War of the Roses. Nine girls. 

Lightheart’s Pilgrimage. Eleven girls. 

The Seven Ages. Eight boys, three girls. 

Visions of F reedom. Eighteen girls. 

All published separately at 15 cents each. 

Price, jo cents 

PARLOR VARIETIES 

By E. E. Brewster , and others 

Eighteen dialogues for school or home performance, comprising many 
popular items. This book is made up from the three volumes formerly 
known as “ Parlor Varieties, Parts I, II, III,” and offers an unusual vol¬ 
ume and variety of material. Price , jo cents 

footlight frolics 

By Mrs. S. C. Fernald, and others 
Seventeen dialogues for school or home performance, carefully selected 
and edited. In this collection amusing as well as useful and instructive 
material may be found that is void of all offence, and is well within the 
powers of children. Price , JO cents 


THE TIME OF HIS LIFE 

A Comedy in Three Acts by C. Leona Dalrymple. Six males, three 
females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors, or can be played in 
one. Plays two hours and a half. A side-splitting piece, full of action 
and a sure success if competently acted. Tom Carter’s little joke of im¬ 
personating the colored butler has unexpected consequences that give him 
“ the time of his life.” Very highly recommended for high school per¬ 
formance. Price , 25 cents 

THE COLLEGE CHAP 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts by Harry L. Newton and John 
Pierre Roche. Eleven males, seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 
two interiors. Plays two and a half hours. An admirable play for ama¬ 
teurs. Absolutely American in spirit and up to date; full of sympathetic 
interest but plenty of comedy; lots of healthy sentiment, but nothing 
“ mushy.” Just the thing for high schools ; sane, effective, and not dif¬ 
ficult. Price , 25 cents 

THE DEACON’S SECOND WIFE 

A Comedy in Three Acts by Allan Abbott. Six males, six females, 
Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior, one exterior. Plays two hour* 
and a half. A play of rural life specially written for school performance, 
All the parts are good and of nearly equal opportunity, and the piece is full 
of laughs. Easy to produce; no awkward sentimental scenes; can b* 
strongly recommended for high schools. Price , 25 cents 

THE TEASER 

A Rural Comedy in Three Acts by Charles S. Allen. Four male, three 
female characters. Scene, an easy interior, the same for all three acts; 
costumes, modern. Plays an hour and a half. An admirable play for 
amateurs, very easy to get up, and very effective. Uraliah Higgins, a 
country postman, and Drusilla Todd are capital comedy parts, introducing 
songs or specialties, if desired. Plenty of incidental fun. 

Price , 25 cents 

COUNTRY FOLKS 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts by Anthony E. Wills. Six males, five 
females. Costumes, modern; scenery, one interior. Plays two and a 
quarter hours. An effective and up-to-date play well suited for amateur 
performance. All the parts good and fairly even in point of opportunity; 
the ladies’ parts especially so. Easy to stage, and well suited for schools. 
Well recommended. Price , 25 cents 

THE MISHAPS OF MINERVA 

A Farce in Two Acts by Bertha Currier Porter. Five males, eight fe¬ 
males. Costumes, modern; scene, an interior. Plays one and a half 
hours. An exceptionally bright and amusing little play of high class and 
recommended to all classes of amateur players. Full of action and 
laughs, but refined. Irish low comedy part. Strongly endorsed. 

Price y 2j cents 


TAKING THE CENSUS IN BINGVILLE 

An Entertainment in One Act by Jessie A. Kelley. Fourteen males, 
eight females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unimportant. Plays an hour 
and a half. One of the always popular go-as-you-please entertainments; 
just a lot of laughs strung on a very slender wire of story. Full of eccen¬ 
tric character bits and chances for local hits. A sure success for the 
laughter-loving. Recommended for church societies or intimate com¬ 
munities. Price, 25 cents 

MISS PRIM’S KINDERGARTEN 

An Entertainment in One Scene by Jessie A. Kelley. Ten males, 
eleven females. No scenery or curtain needed; costumes introduce 
grown people dressed as children. Plays an hour and a half. Full of 
laughs and a sure hit with the audience. All the parts very easy except 
the Teacher’s, and as it is possible for her to use a book, the entertain¬ 
ment can be got up with exceptional ease and quickness. Can be recom¬ 
mended. Price , 23 cents 

THE PACKING OF THE HOME MIS¬ 
SIONARY BARREL 

An Entertainment in One Scene by Mrs. Henry A. Hallock. Ten fe¬ 
males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unimportant. Plays thirty minuten. 
One of those little satires of feminine ways that are so popular even witk 
the ladies; very shrewd and effective, but perfectly good-natured. An as.- 
sured success and very easy to get up. Strongly recommended. 

Price , is cents 

A MODERN SEWING SOCIETY 

An Entertainment in One Scene by O. W. Gleason. Fourteen females. 
Costumes, modern; no scenery required. May be easily presented on a 
bare platform. Plays forty-five minutes. A humorous picture of this 
much-abused institution, briskly and vivaciously written and full of 
“ points.” Its characters offer a wide variety of opportunity for local hits, 
and satire of local characters and institutions. Price, ij cents 

HOW THE CLUB WAS FORMED 

An Entertainment in Three Scenes by Mrs. O. W. Gleason. Eighteen 
females. Costumes, modern; scenery, unimportant. Plays one and a 
half hours. A humorous skit on the Woman’s Club suited for perform¬ 
ance by either young or middle-aged women. Full of points and chances 
for local hits and thus a sure laugh-maker. Parts well distributed; can 
be recommended. Price, is cents 

SCENES IN THE UNION DEPOT 

A Humorous Entertainment in One Scene by Laura M. Parsons. 
Twenty-four males, eighteen females and eight children, but can be played 
by less if desired. Scenery, unimportant; costumes, modern. Full of 
humorous points and chances to introduce local hits. Plays from an hour 
up, according to specialties introduced. Price, 2s cents 


New Plays 


LOST—A CHAPERON 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Courtney Bruerton and IV. S. Maulsby 

Six male, nine female characters. Costumes modern; scenery, an in¬ 
terior and an easy exterior. Plays a full evening. An excellent comedy 
with the true college atmosphere but with its scenes away from actual col¬ 
lege life. A breezy lot of college girls in camp lose their chaperon for 
twenty-four hours, and are provided by a camp of college boys across the 
lake with plenty of excitement. The parts are all good and of almost 
equal opportunity, the situations are very funny and the lines full of laughs. 
This is sure to be liked by the young people for whom it is intended, and 
is strongly recommended for high-school performance. Price, 25 cents. 


CHARACTERS 


George Higgins, a Tuft's A. B. . . . 

Jack Abbott, ) Tuff s sub-freshmen, camf- 
Fred Lawton, } ingwith Higgins . . 

Raymond Fitzhenry, a Harvard student 

?««“•) ■ • 

Marjorie Tyndall, George's cousin: a 
Smith girl .Helen J. Martin 


Ernest S. Swenson 
Stanley M. Brown 
Arthur J. Anderson 
Arthur T. Hale 
Ernest A. Larrabee 
Ferdinand Bryham 


Jackson girls 


Dorothy F. Entwistle 
Edith H. Bradford 
Marjorie L. Henry 
Beatrice L. Davis 


Alice Bennett, 

Agnes Arabella Bates, 

Ruth French, 

Blanche Westcott, 

Mrs. Higgins, the chaperon . George's 

mother .Effie M. Ritchie 

Mrs. Sparrow, a farmer s wife. (Not in the original cast.) 

Mandy, \ daughters. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — The Girls’ Camp at Sherwood, 7 A. m. 

Act II.—The Fellows’ Camp at Sherwood, 8 A. M. 

Act III.—Same as Act I, 10 a. m. 


A BRIDE FROM HOME 

A Vaudeville Sketch in One Act 

By Willis Steell 

Two male, two female characters. Costumes modern; scene, an in¬ 
terior. Plays twenty minutes. A capital sketch of Hebrew life and 
character, combining good comedy with genuine pathos. Moves very 
swiftly and is very effective. Can be strongly recommended for either 
vaudeville use or for amateur theatricals. Price „ 15 cents . 








New Plays 
THE PRIVATE TUTOR 

A Farce in Three Acts 

By E. J. Whisler 

Five male, three female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, two 
simple interiors. Plays two hours. A very brisk and amusing recital of 
the endeavors of two college boys to disguise the fact that they have been 
“ rusticated ” from the family of one of them. Hans Dinklederfer, the 
leader of a German band, trying to make good in the character of a private 
tutor, is a scream. All the parts are good and the piece full of action. A 
capital high-school play and strongly recommended for this purpose. 

Price , 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 

Fred Spencer, who believes that experience is the best teacher . 
George Carothers, his chum, who also seeks experience. 

Mr. Spencer, his father , who owns an oil well. 

Hans Dinklederfer, his undoing, the leader of a little Gertnan 
band. 

Richard, servant at the Spencers '. 

Mrs. Spencer, Ned's mother, who feels the responsibility of the oil 
well and has social aspirations. 

Dolly Spencer, his sister, who has a mind of her own . 

Miss Snap, a detective. 


SYNOPSIS 

Act I.—Fred Spencer’s rooms at Clearfield College. 

Act II.—The Spencer home. One week after Act I. 

Act III.—The Spencer home. Ten minutes after Act II. 


MISS PARKINGTON 

A Farce in One Act 

By May E. Countryman 

One male, three female characters. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy 
interior. Plays twenty-five minutes. A bright little piece of misunder¬ 
standing in which a bashful young man has a narrow escape from pro¬ 
posing to the wrong Miss Parkington. Easy and effective; four capital 
parts; can be done anywhere, with or without scenery. Strongly recom¬ 
mended. 

Price , 15 cents 





New Plays for Female Characters 


THE PURSUIT OF THE PARSON 

A Mock Trial in One Act 

By Helen Lee Brooks 

Thirteen females and jury. Costumes of the future ; scenery unimpor¬ 
tant Plays one hour. A clever and amusing picture of the days to com. 
when the ladies will run things. Originally presented in Louisville, ivy 
Price, 25 cents 


CHARACTERS 
Hon. Portia Blackstone, Judge. 

Madame Elizabeth Kent-Coke, Prosecuting Attorney . 
Madame Tomasia Erskine, Attorney for Defendant . 

“ Dotty ” Develin, the Defendant. 

Clerk of the Court. 

Sheriff= 


Witnesses for the Commonwealth 
Miss Mehitable Simpkins, a 
spinster of uncertain age . 

Miss Nancy Ann Sims, another 
spinster of doubtful age. 

Prof. Elvira Jones-Johnson, 
Instructor of Advanced The « 
ology. 


Witnesses for Defendant 

Dr. Eleanor Ainsworth, ex< 
pert Oculist and Alienist . 

Mrs. Polly Posy, chum of 
Dotty. 

Prof. Dolly Dimple, Professor 
of che Art of Courtship. 

Forewoman of the Jury and 
eleven jurors . 


THE TRUTH ABOUT JANE 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Seven females. Costumes modern ; scenery, an easy interior. Plays 
twenty-five minutes. A very easy, bright and up-to-date piece doing 
justice to the virtues of the “ athletic ” girl. Strongly recommended. 
Price, cents 


OYSTERS 

A Farce in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Six females. Costumes modern; scene, an easy interior. Plays 
twenty minutes. An easy and clever little play for younger girls, with 
one old maid character. A novel idea very amusingly treated. Strongly 
recommended. 


Price , 2 ,S cents 





New Publications 


THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By J. Hartley Manners 

Eight males, four females. Costumes modern; scenery, two interiors, 
not difficult. Well suited for amateur performance. Plays a full evening. 
This admirable play, made popular for two seasons by Mr. J. E. Dodson’s 
striking performance of its leading part, is offered for amateur performance 
at a royalty of ten dollars. All the parts are strong and exceptionally 
well contrasted. Of especial interest to Hebrew societies from its able and 
sympathetic presentment of a man of their race. 

Price , go cents 


CHARACTERS 


The Cotswold Family 

Sir John Cotswold, baronet. 
Margaret, his wife. 

Ulrica, his daughter. 

Cecil, his son. 

Vining, his servant. 

Capt. the Hon. Clive Trevor. 


The Jacobson Family 

Sir Isaac Jacobson, M. P. 
Rebecca, his wife. 

Esther, his daughter. 

Adrian, his son. 

Maximilian, his servant. 

Walter Lewis, musical agent . 


SYNOPSIS 
ACT I 

Scene.— Morning room in Sir John Cotswold’s house in the 
Cotswold Park Estate, Kensington, London. 

ACT II 

Scene.— Drawing-room in Sir Isaac Jacobson’s house. Next 
Door. The same afternoon. 


ACT III 

Scene. —Same as Act I. Three days later. 


MARRYING BELINDA 

A Farce in One Act 

By Grace Cooke Strong 

Four males, four females. Costumes modern; scenery, an easy interior. 
Plays thirty minutes. An easy and entertaining little play exactly suited 
for amateur acting in schools or elsewhere. Just the sort of thing half 
way between farce and comedy that is best liked. Well recommended. 
Price, ig cents 





THE BOY SCOUTS 

A Play for Boys in Three Acts 
By Walter Ben Hare 

Twenty males. Scenery, unimportant; costumes, scout and modern. 
Plays two hours. Worth refuses to vote for Tony as a new scout because 
the latter is poor, but Tony shows in the end that he is a true scout and 
wins his election. This simple motive underlies lots of characteristic fun 
and stunts, and offers as a whole a very vigorous and sympathetic picture 
of the Boy Scout practices, motives, and ideals. Strongly recommended. 

Price, 25 cents 

CHARACTERS 

Stewart Nipper, known as Nip. 

Fred Tuck, known as Tuck. 

Dick Randolph, the patrol leader. 

Worthington Leonard, a rich boy. 

Tony Ardis, a poor boy. 

Jakie Stein, with business instincts. 

Chubby Childs, who don't care if he is fat. 

Watermelon Jackson, a lazy coon. 

Mrs. Watermelon Jackson, and her seven little coons . ( May be 
omitted .) 

Lippy Scudder, who thinks he's a hero. 

Bub Waldron, going on seven. 

Jack Hall, assistant patrol leader. 

Plupy Higgins, who likes to study. 

Lee Waldron, wme athlete. 

Tom Redway, who plays the piano. 

Shorty, Harry, Charley, Will and Frank, other Boy Scouts. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I.—The meeting of the Boy Scouts of America. Nip and 
Tuck. 

Act II. —A rehearsal in the gym. The stunts of the Scouts. 
Act III. —Same as Act I. Swearing in the new tenderfoot. 


AUNT ABIGAIL AND THE BOYS 

A Farce in One Act 
By Lillie Fuller Merriam 

Nine males, two females. Scene, an interior; costumes, modern. 
Plays one hour. Aunt Abigail, who hates boys, visits Gerald in college 
and finding him dressed in female costume for theatricals takes him for 
his sister Geraldine. Things are badly mixed up when his friends turn 
up and see the situation, but in the end Aunty is wholly cured of her 
dislike for the “ boys.” Lively and amusing; recommended for schools. 

Price, iy cents 


New Plays 

THE MISHAPS OF MINERVA 

A Farce in Two Acts 

By Bertha Currier Porter 

Five males, eight females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays 
one and a half hours. An exceptionally bright and amusing little play of 
high class and recommended to all classes of amateur players. Full of ac¬ 
tion and laughs, but refined. Irish low comedy part. Strongly endorsed. 
Price y 2$ ce?its 

CHARACTERS 

Mortimer J. Sterling, an easy-going business man. 

Victor Brown, a young doctor, friend of the family and esfe dally 
of Minerva. 

Harry Stevenson, a club reporter, attentive to Clara . 

Barnes, the butler. 

Mike Shannon, a very new policeman. 

Mrs. Lydia Sterling, domestic and quiet. 

Minerva Sterling, willing to oblige. 

Clara Sterling, her younger sister. 

Molly, the maid. 

Belle Brantley, reporter for “ The Screamer /* 

Mrs. Wright, a club woman. 

Miss Palmer, a phila7ithropic worker. 

Mrs. Jennie Van Deusen Spuyker, a Personage. 

Members of the reception committee. 

A CHANGE OF HEART 

A Comedy in Two Acts 

By Albert H. Good 

Five males, six females. Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. 
Plays an hour and a half. An easy, pretty and effective play, suited for 
schools or young people. Scenery not absolutely necessary. Can be 
recommended. Price, 25 cents 

MAKING A SISTER 

A Mock Initiation for Ladies in One Act 

By Epes Winthrop Sargent 

Ten female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery unimportant. Plays 
from forty minutes to an hour. A very bright and lively entertainment, 
especially strong in its dialogue. Plenty of ludicrous incident and char¬ 
acteristic action, but quite without the element of “ rough and tumble ” 
that would be so objectionable in an entertainment for ladies. The candi¬ 
date is placed in positions that are rather undignified but is neithe* 
mussed nor mauled. Strongly recommended. 

Pricey 25 cents 








JS# IP# Pineros Plays 

Price, 50 Kents each 


MID-CHANNF! £ lay iM Four Acts - Six mal es, five females. 
Plays two aX half h„ C u;i t .' ,meS ' 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH ^S‘ a e 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors 
Plays a full evening. 

THE PROFIIflATF Pla Y in Four Acts. Seven males, five 
," L * IU/rLlUftlL females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
elaborate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening, 

THE SCH00I MISTRFSS Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, 
HIE. seven females. Costumes, mod¬ 

ern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY £& ta *S£ ( *& 

females. Costumes, modern; scenerv, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

SWF FT I AVFNHFR Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
kJ T» EiEa 1 L/i V LltL/Ln four females. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF THIINHFRIRO! T Comedy Four Acts. Ten males, 

HIE. HIUIWLIXDULI nine females. Scenery, three interi¬ 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THE TIMES Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 


a full evening. 


Scene, a single interior; costumes,modern. Plays 


THF WFAYFR QFY Comedy ill Three Acts. Eight males, 
HIE. 1_c.ciIvE«l\ OLA eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE 

Five males, four females. 

Costumes, modern; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 


Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walter %). ^Pafecr & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


* 


041 305 997 5 

decent popular Paps 


THE FREITS OF ENLIGHTENMENT 


HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR 


AN IDEAL HUSBAND 


TUP AWAFFNINfi Play in Four Acts. c - Chambers. 
A11L A TV AIxLiiliiU Four males, six females. Scenery, not diffi¬ 
cult, chiefly interiors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. 
By L. Tolstoi. Twenty- 
one males, eleven females. Scenery, characteristic interiors; cos¬ 
tumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Recommended for reading 
clubs. Price, 25 Cents. 

Farce in Three Acts. By 
R. Marshall. Ten 
males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior. 
Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. By Oscar Wilde. 
Nine males, six females. Costumes, mod¬ 
ern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights 
reserved. Sold for reading. Price, 50 Cents. 

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST £ 5*^" 

Wilde. Five males, four females. Costumes, modern; scenes, two 
interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re¬ 
served. Price, 50 Cents. 

LADY WINDERMERE’S FAN 

Wilde"^ Seven males, nine v fe¬ 
males. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full 
evening. Acting rights reserved. Price, 50 Cents. 

NATHAN HAIF Play in Four Acts. By Clyde Fitch. Fifteen 
iiiilUAli MALL males, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth 
century in America. Scenery, four interiors and two exteriors. Act¬ 
ing rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Three Acts. By M. B. Horice. 
Six males, four females. Scenery, two 
interiors; costumes, modern. Professional stage rights reserved. 
Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

THF TYRANNY ftF TFARS Comedy in Four Acts. By C. H. 
1UC 1 lKAnli l Ur lEAr\J Chambers. Four males, three fe¬ 
males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior; costumes, modern. 
Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 

Comedy in Four Acts. By 
OscarWilde. Eight males, 
seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors and an 
exterior. Plays a full evening. Stage rights reserved. Offered for 
reading only. Price, 50 Cents. 


THE OTHER FELLOW 


A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE 


Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walter l^. 'Ba'lict & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 


S. J. PARKHILL «. CO , PRINTEI 8, BOSTON. 






















